Do Thy Bidding
by EnchanteRhea
Summary: In love, war and learning, there is a first time for everything. [Soubi, Seimei]


**Note: **Written for Shan, who is owned by Seimei no less than yours truly.

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**Do Thy Bidding**  
by Rhea Logan

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_**I. Compel my will to do thy bidding...**_

  
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The name-brand was still fresh when the chains of restriction coiled around the thin scar tissue on Soubi's throat for the first time.

The battle came to a standstill then, the windswept field around them frozen in a grisly haze. Soubi braced himself and swallowed, stopping the reflexive cough - it would only worsen the pain. The shackles rattled softly as he shifted his weight.

Beside him, Seimei stood still, erect like Soubi had never seen him before in training. His dark face set, his eyes burned with cold flames of furious passion that scorched and chilled all the same. He did not flinch, did not wince at the tight, heavy restraint. His cat ears twitched, the only sign of anger in his composed frame.

They would ignore the pulling, the choking, the pain. Soubi exhaled, willing tension gone. Then he felt it – the ache dulling, seeping out of his flesh - through the searing loop around his neck, onto the chain and away. He turned his head, careful to keep the other team within his peripheral vision as his eyes settled on his Sacrifice's face.

Seimei's expression hardened, lips pressing together to form an only slightly tighter line. The cool steel behind his tone liquefied beneath the touch of a single word—

_Release _

—before returning to its unbreakable, solid pattern of breath and rapidly exchanged thoughts.

Soubi closed his eyes. Ahead of him, the other Fighter reveled in their momentary victory, gathering strength before he cast the final spell. Soubi felt Seimei's eyes on the back of his head, his command a clear resonance in his otherwise blank mind. Energy shifted around him, the still air dense with raw power straining for release.

_Beloved_, he thought, tuning deeper into Seimei to catch the perfect moment. _I will do as you will._ An electric surge coursed along their chains – Soubi reached behind him with both hands – Seimei caught them and his voice rang clear like a bell in the web of Soubi's mind.

"Finish it."

Words answered his summons, pushing past his lips the second their hands disentwined. Soubi spread out his arms, encompassing the raw flow of power coursing through the air until the collar cracked. The chains exploded around them in countless brilliant splinters; a shower of quicksilver now harmless, littering the barren earth. Seimei's hand slipped around his neck, pressing and stilling and Soubi shivered with their combined strength.

Their rivals' shields fell apart, swept into nonexistence by Soubi's last, precisely calibrated spell. No sooner than they collapsed did he register the sharp stinging of skin under Seimei's hand. He let his eyes slide shut, trying not to swallow too thickly lest Seimei feel him weaken before the end. They remained like this, motionless and silent in the wake of pungent spells until the borders of Soubi's field began to disperse.

The cool breeze brushed softly against his sweat-slick skin. Soubi released a long breath, blinking as the world shifted into its ordinary shape. His legs grew weak with the dissipating link; he wished for something to lean on when Seimei's strength no longer supported him.

He cast a long glance at his Sacrifice. Seimei swept his palm across the lapels of his jacket, time and again, dusting them off. He looked up, his eyes calmer now as he met Soubi's gaze.

"Are you all right?" Seimei tossed casually as he stepped towards him.

Soubi gave a small nod. "Yes," he said. His voice, he thought, had so much weaker sound when he did not use it to fight, to defend Beloved's name.

"Good." Seimei reached out his hand. He ran his thumb across their shared name carved coarsely into Soubi's neck. It still burned. "Soubi," he said, his voice a chilling breath of a different air. "This was the last time you made such a mistake."

Soubi held his breath. Seimei's fingers slid towards the pulsing vein in his throat; he ignored the raw sensations of touch to aching flesh. Confusion riddled his suddenly anxious train of thought threatening to derail. He pondered asking, eventually deciding against it.

He frowned at what looked like a momentary conflict in his Sacrifice's face.

"Don't ask me if we fight," Seimei whispered into Soubi's lips. "Ever again."

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_**II. ...and command my soul to look to thee...**_

  
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Seimei had a sharp, quick tongue; a spell caster's trait - as though he were the one who won battles with intricate words. Yet nothing sliced through Soubi's heart like his silence; a shard of coldest ice.

He perched himself precariously on the edge of the bed, following the wordless order Seimei had issued with a wave of his hand. He watched his Sacrifice turn slowly to look over the spartan interior of his new apartment, dark eyes narrowed, arms folded across his chest.

"Didn't I mention this place is tasteless?" Seimei scowled at the empty corners, at the bare, white walls. "You need furniture other than a bed."

Soubi nodded, happy enough that Seimei spoke to him again, and caught himself carelessly glossing over what he had actually said. "I don't need much," he tossed absently, shrugging his shoulders. He had barely moved in a fortnight ago. At the end of the day, his interest hardly reached beyond the thoughts of sleep, anyway.

Seimei's steps whispered against the floor. He stopped in front of Soubi, crossing his ankles, and stared him down for a while. Soubi's cat ears twitched and wilted a bit under the scrutiny of his Sacrifice.

Kneeling, Seimei reached for the buttons of Soubi's shirt and, one by one, began undoing them. He was only timid when his fingers wedged themselves between fabric and skin, his cheeks faintly colored a darker shade. Soubi smiled, but bit down on the inside of his cheek when the edge of the collar grazed his aching scars.

"And you need a fridge," Seimei continued, his voice dropping slightly to hushed, soothing tones. His palm rested gently against Soubi's ribcage, fingertips tracing one protruding bone. "You're too thin. You need to be strong. I dare not ask what you eat and where. And I don't like your idea of taking care of yourself."

Soubi closed his eyes, letting a quiet, well-rehearsed apology tumble from his lips. Drawn into a strange world of rising need by the warm touch of Seimei's hand, he leaned into it, tilting his head. Seimei's large, furry ear felt soft against his cheek; Soubi let his head drop to rest against his shoulder. Seimei's presence calmed him, defined the boundaries and he thought only that he could stay like this... Beloved, away from everyone else.

He choked back on the urges of his heart at the sound of a plastic box dragged against the floor. Seimei ignored him; he had pulled away and was now rummaging through the first-aid kit he had produced from under the bed.

"This needs to heal." Seimei's hand landed squarely against Soubi's chest and pushed. "Quickly, if possible."

Soubi leaned back, pulling up his knees and shifting until he settled against the wall. He could try, he thought as Seimei crawled onto the bed and made himself comfortable between Soubi's legs. He had been practicing the healing techniques for the past few months; now was as good a time as any to put them to use.

In battle, he mused as Seimei's knee brushed the inside of his thigh, focus came far more easily than now.

"I guess," he said, attempting to recall what he had decided to do. The antiseptic smelled of something he vaguely connected with his first days at School. He had left just two weeks ago, yet it seemed like much more time had passed. "That's something I've learned, but... It would help if you—" he paused. Seimei's dark eyes studied him, one cat ear perking up. "If Seimei ordered me."

Seimei laughed. "You really can't do anything on your own, can you?" he asked, his question a half-statement delivered in an amused tone. He rubbed a bit of ointment between his fingers and assigned himself to the task of applying it to Soubi's neck.

"That's all right, I guess," he murmured under his breath, eyebrows drawing together in concentration as he worked. "You've learned other things, you'll learn this, as well."

Soubi sighed. The vapors watered his eyes and he blinked away the wetness there, reveling in the careful touches of Seimei's hands. "That, though," cautious not to touch it, he pointed to his throat. "I could have done myself."

Seimei regarded him with cooler, critical stare. "Technically," he said, leaning back on outstretched arms. "But you should always finish what you start. And since _I_ had to _tell_ you to accept the challenge..."

Seimei fell silent; Soubi could swear his purple gaze unfocused for a fracture of a second before he added,

"Beloved's Fighter _never_ hesitates."

Seimei's half-whisper whipped him across the face. These gentle words delivered all of their intended contempt. Soubi nodded once, cat ears flattening against his head. "I understand."

Seimei grinned and pulled himself off the bed. "You'd better," he said, voice louder; loud enough to dissolve the peculiar atmosphere. "By the way." He leaned over the bed, dark hair tumbling across his face as he fished for something in the small box.

Soubi watched him pick and toss a small pack of gauze. He caught it deftly in one hand.

Seimei moved, cat-like and quick, fingers twisting in Soubi's hair. "I've decided you can't keep walking around like this," he said, his other hand pointing toward Soubi's neck. "Cover it up. Much as it pleases to see my name on you, people stare."  
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_**III. I will follow thee, and will learn of thee all that I need to know.**_

  
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This throbbing ache, the burning of torn flesh and shame had not yet begun to fade when Soubi pulled himself off the floor at the distant summons of Seimei calling out his name.

Such a shame.

He tried not to think of the look Seimei would give him, of the destruction of closeness and trust, the bond they had honed and cherished for the past few months. He tried not to wonder whether everything would be over now, in his mind a plea for punishment and a dying hope for forgiveness from his Sacrifice.

The other Fighter's field gave off a powerful vibe. Soubi narrowed his eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, focusing, drawing in the distant energy, among it Seimei's clearest light. He braced himself as he entered the restricted area, held his breath when Seimei's tall form half-turned and Beloved took him in.

Soubi's face steeled. Seimei's gaze swept over him with a dangerous glint and he clenched his fists. Soubi's boots clicked out too loud a rhythm as he crossed the field and stood beside him, as he always did. Routine; exciting, if not repetitive – yet this time Seimei stiffened when Soubi laid one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching for the bandage concealing his name.

He tugged until the fabric gave way and fluttered in his grasp like butterfly wings on lethal wind. Seimei did not relax.

"Agatsuma," the other Fighter called out, smirking, an accusing finger jabbing the void before him. "We came to prove you're not as perfect as they say you are."

Soubi raised an eyebrow. To his left, Seimei still clenched his fists at his sides, cold eyes fixed on the other pair.

"Who are you?"

"We are Faultless," the Sacrifice stepped an inch closer, resting his hand on his Fighter's shoulder in blatant mockery of Beloved's pose. "And you'll be history, tonight."

Soubi would have snorted, except he knew without a doubt it would be a mistake. Seimei would have laughed at such stupid boldness any other time. Not tonight. Tonight, Soubi had failed already before the true battle began. Tonight, Seimei stood like a monument of stone, silent and still, and what would have been amusing sent chills across Soubi's back.

Faultless looked older, the link between them seamless. Their strength throbbed through the air around them and, for the first time in months, Soubi felt a once-familiar coldness of fear's creepy fingers prickling the pit of his stomach. He reached out his hand to let the battle start, remembering the lesson once learned that Beloved always challenged first—

—a sudden thought halted his already forming words. He glanced back at Seimei for a splinter of a second before he realized this battle was about him alone. It had nothing to do with his Sacrifice.

"I'll fight on auto," he said firmly, locking eyes with Seimei. He almost winced at the rare hesitation in Seimei's dark glare, half-hoping he would be denied, readying himself to see through what he had decided.

But Seimei gave a nod and took a step back. "Go ahead," he permitted, voice cold and piercing through the web of Soubi's mind. "But don't you dare lose, Soubi," he hissed under his breath so that no one else could hear. "It's not only your fight."

Soubi turned and inhaled deeply as he traced the length of his outstretched arm, summoning all skill and power he could muster on his own. He knew he should not fight without a Sacrifice; his strength alone, he thought quickly, might not suffice this time.

Too late to draw back, he knew, and quick challenge words pushed past his mouth. His true name tingled across his throat, battle system initiating with a blink of an eye. Faultless' Fighter tossed an eager agreement; the sound muffled behind a veil of Soubi's distracted mind and he focused, senses heightening to meet the trial primed.

Spells tumbled one by one, swift and precise – Soubi countered and dodged, raising shields to defend against the rainfall of raw power unleashed onto his pride. He struggled for balance; without Seimei to ground him, without his strength and orders to guide him, he saw a disgraceful end flashing through his mind.

Teeth clenched, he willed himself faster, better, sparing a fracture of thought to remind himself what he was fighting for. His bones shook a little more violently with each countered burst – sheer force of a spell crashed against a shield raised barely in time and Soubi gasped, weakening and powering himself up in wild intervals.

"Have you had enough?" Faultless sneered from behind his Fighter's back, self-satisfied.

Soubi's eyes flashed a dangerous cold from under the cover of his lashes. He seized the short pause, focus mending in a breath - he wasn't going to give them any more time to figure him out. Biting back a bitter response, he attacked, striking and burning and tearing apart until his spells wiped their faces clean of the offending smiles.

Shields rose and collapsed, shooting splinters catching hair and cloth but not flesh – not strong, not precise enough. Soubi felt Seimei's judging eyes on him and he knew he wasn't trying hard enough, proving only that he was nothing without his Sacrifice.

"You got tired of waiting?" the other Fighter called as he parried Soubi's spell. "No wonder," he chuckled, patting his own earless head. "Your Sacrifice is still a brat."

Rage assaulted him with a heat rush but his stomach clenched and Soubi swallowed down a sudden wave of nausea. His voice died in his throat and he shuddered, chasing away the all too recent memory of Sensei's cold hands raking through his hair. Darkness swept across his vision, eyes blurring – Soubi took a deep breath to disregard that trigger, to summon a spell that would wipe it out.

"Restrain!" a voice cried ahead of him – and something else - too far, too rapid, too loud.

Soubi's tongue twisted around the words a half-second too late. Rushing in light-quick flight, bonds of restriction sprang forth, coiling and twisting around him – thin, ice-cold. Soubi's breath caught, his first instinct to look back at Seimei before he remembered that he fought alone—

—then the pain sank in. Soubi cried out, fingers reaching unconsciously to loosen the bonds. Sharp thorns bit into his hand, into his neck and throat as they tightened - jabbing, tearing at skin and flesh, pulling until he collapsed.

"We brought a surprise," Faultless' Fighter announced in a sing-song voice. "I hope you like it. It took a while to master that spell."

Soubi squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the pain. He felt himself near panic, careless of hurting his hand in favor of relieving a greater ache as he tried to tug at the barbwire tearing into his neck. Struck with the illogic of this desperate try, he stilled, his breaths shallow now.

Seimei moved behind him – he could feel him, his Sacrifice taking these miserable matters in his own hands. But the support of his strength never came; Seimei stared him down, dark eyes impassive, his face a detached mask.

"Ouch." The other Fighter clicked his tongue, crouching a short distance away, head tilted as he took in the damage he had caused. "That'll leave a pretty scar."

Soubi looked up, blinking to clear his vision, calling upon fury that began to rise above everything else.

"And what a story to tell!" the other chimed on, a smug smile upon his mouth. "Told you. History, Beloved. Any last words?"

Soubi pursed his lips. It took a shift of his entire form to look up at Seimei but he did, pleading eyes searching his Sacrifice's unreadable face.

"Get up."

Seimei's voice rang clear between them, and Soubi believed it, obeyed it as he always did, pushing past the excruciating pain as he powered to his feet.

It hurt to speak, sharp metal shifting when Soubi found his voice. He managed a hoarse, "Yes," slowly inhaling, absorbing the flurry of power sustained in the thick air around him. "Good bye."

He did not need to be told twice. Spending his mind and soul, Soubi let his ultimate spell unleash red-black, roaring flames, glass shards and needles borne on the wings of countless butterflies.

Exhausted, he landed hard on his knees, chest heaving with labored breath, his forehead damp with sweat. He balanced his weight on one hand, the other testing the wire-bonds – loosened a bit, they still dug into his battered skin. He winced; it hurt to move or swallow, but his mind already worked through the haze to find a way to dispose of them.

"You're not done yet."

Seimei towered above him, tall and proud. Compassion seldom graced his Sacrifice and, Soubi thought, he was the last person to deserve it right now. Yet it took him a while to comprehend what Seimei had on his mind. He lifted weary eyes, following where Seimei's hand pointed towards the fallen Faultless Fighter and Sacrifice.

"This is a disgrace," Seimei said in a cold voice, uttering each separate word. "I will not have them live to talk about this to anyone."

Soubi's blood ran cold but he gave a nod, hissing at the countless stabs of pain. He tried to make himself get up yet failed, weakened by the battle and the loss of blood. So he rose on his knees, as high as his drained body allowed, and closed his eyes to deliver the final word.

_Annihilate._

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In the eerie stillness of the aftermath, Soubi felt himself grow colder, weaker still and he couldn't, try as he might, help giving in to the rising pain. Trickles of blood ran warm down his chest, underneath his shirt. He braved a timid touch to the side of his neck, where the barbwire restraints dissolved with the spell caster's death.

"Seimei," he breathed, heavy eyelids sliding shut. "I... apologize."

Seimei's steps whispered against the grass. Soubi forced himself to look up, squinting into the scorching sunlight until the other's dark frame blotted it out.

"Don't waste your breath," he said, shaking his head. "Quite a perfect Fighter, you are."

Soubi's heart sank. Something wilted inside him; he knew there was nothing he could do or say to undo what had taken place. He glanced at Seimei's dark ears through blurry eyes, holding back apologies, excuses, truth and lies that flashed through his mind.

He watched Seimei turn on his heel and frowned, heaving himself up on one hand. "You're leaving?"

"_You_ started this," Seimei tossed over his shoulder, no hesitation in his step as he walked away. "Now it's _your_ business to finish it however you see fit, slut."

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May 10-16th, 2006


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